


The Heart of the Ocean

by Rainbow_Femme



Category: The Song of Achilles - Madeline Miller
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Titanic - Freeform, Titanic AU, patrochilles - Freeform, trying to follow the canon of both stories at once with this one so let's see how it goes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-22
Updated: 2015-12-21
Packaged: 2018-05-02 19:43:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5261177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rainbow_Femme/pseuds/Rainbow_Femme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After winning a ticket on a lucky hand of poker along with Briseis, Patroclus boards the Titanic looking for a change and a better future. After becoming officially engaged to the wealthy Deidameia, Achilles is trying to enjoy his fading freedom aboard the ship. I'm sure you know what happens next.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Achilles watched the ship slowly come into view from his window, glimmering like a mirage on the water. He felt the day had no right to be so sunny, nor the sky so blue and cloudless. He could count his last days of limited freedom on his two hands, days that would soon be filled with no freedom at all. Deidameai was crushing his hand in hers, grinding the bones of his fingers together painfully and he tried not to wince. He could have pulled his hand away, was physically able, but his mother was sitting opposite him and staring at him with those eyes that said "Do not ruin this for us." He sat a little taller against the lush purple velvet seats. He would be good, he would do as was asked of him as the only child, only hope of saving the family's future. But he would not smile about it. He would not pretend to be happy.

He stared at the ocean, thinking of all the places it could take him if only he could get away.  _Paris,_ he though.  _Or perhaps Greece or Rome, Egypt or India._ An entire world lay before him and he would never see any of it. He would see his fiancee's home, and the town it was in, and his mother's home when he visited. But he would be expected to take over his father's company, something that would take constant work and vigilance, no time for travelling the world and exploring, mush less with the addition of the family duties he would be expected to take part in once the marriage had gone through. He had never felt so alone. He rested his free hand under his chin as the car idled in line behind the others, waiting for a steward to offer assistance. 

\--

Patroclus could see the same ocean, the same ship, the same procession of cars through the window of the rundown pub, jiggling his leg as he looked at the man and woman sitting across from him, both scarier than the other. He and Briseis had bet everything they had, roughly $27 between them, on this game of cards. The other two had bet $10 and their tickets to the Titanic to make up the rest. Briseis was eyeing him carefully as he looked at his hand. It was between him and the dark woman across from him. She smiled icily and put down three jacks, a 10, and an 8. Briseis swallowed.

The man tending bar watched them carefully, absently cleaning a glass. He had warned them earlier that he hadn't wanted any fights in his bar that day, not with all those cameras and reporters outside.

Patroclus looked to Briseis then sighed and shook his head, earning a punch form her. "You bet everything we have on this game and that's it?" She drew back her arm to give him another one when he grinned and put his cards down. Three 3s, two 5s. Weaker cards but a stronger hand. She grinned and whooped, grabbing for their winnings and swiping them into her bag while the couple argued in a language Patroclus didn't recognize, too excited about making sure they got every dime off the table.

From outside, a warning whistle blew and they looked to each other before sprinting out the door, hurtling passersby as they raced through the crowd to make it up the gangplank in time to hand over their tickets, wheezing out that they were American before leaping inside, not relaxing until the door had closed securely behind them. They looked to each other a moment before bursting into exhilarated laughter. Who would have thought they of all people would make it to the Ship of Dreams?

\--

Achilles felt the ship begin to move, heard the cheers from those on the docks as well as those waving goodbye to them. He was glad at least they were happy. He watched his mother and Deidameai rearrange the sitting room to their liking as he sat on an overlarge chair, looking out the window at the open ocean. He could hear the waves hitting the sides of the ship if he tried, if he tuned out the rest of the world and just concentrated on the gentle rocking of the ocean beneath him. He tried breathing in time with the waves, hoping it would help to calm his frantically beating heart.

"Up." He jumped at the sound of a deep voice above him. Looking up he saw Hector, the man-servant/ helper that Deidameai had brought along with her. She said it was because she had grown up with him helping her father and she wanted to be reminded of home with him around, but Achilles guessed it had more to do with the fact that he was built like a house and could probably make anyone do what he wanted them to do, which was by extension what she wanted them to do.

"Why? I'm not in anyone's way." He slouched a bit more in the chair and Hector curled his lip. He was not Achilles' biggest fan.

"We want the chair over here, darling. More lighting for reading." Deidameai waved a gloved hand at him from the other side of the room. He sighed. How much reading could any of them possibly get done during the trip that it would matter? But he knew if he did not get up Hector would make him get up, and that would piss off his mother, which would upset Deidameai, which would become his responsibility to fix... And he really didn't want to deal with any of that. Not now, not ever, if he could help it.

"Alright, I needed a walk anyway." He got up, stretched, grabbed his coat and was out the door before he could hear another word of protest or someone offering to accompany him. That was all he needed. God, how could he feel so suffocated and so lonely at the same time?

It took a few minutes to find the upper deck. He had slid along the walls and tried to remember which way they had come, muttering to himself that they could spend thousands on a chandelier for the parlor but only had a handful of wall maps for a ship as big as an entire marina.

Finally he made it to the first class desk, closing his eyes and taking in a deep breath of cool air and warm sunshine. He hadn't noticed how claustrophobic the inner decks were until he was free of them and could feel the wind on his face and the soft chatter of the passengers around him. Opening his eyes after a moment, he wandered over to one of the railings overlooking the lower decks. There were scattered people lounging, looking at the water, playing games with one another, or simply enjoying the last of the warm weather before they plowed into cooler waters. 

His eyes lazily moved from person to person, curious about his fellow passengers. There was a girl about his age helping a little girl see the water over the railing, and a boy, or rather young man, who was next to her, grinning at the water like he had never seen anything more beautiful in his life. Achilles could only see part of his face under the old low brimmed hat he was wearing, but he could tell he was handsome. Dark skinned with a strong jaw and a straight nose. His father said noses like that were imperial, made a man look powerful. He had to agree that the man looked powerful, but that impression could easily have come from his tall, muscular build, large hands, broad shoulders, well formed thighs under those grey slacks...

Achilles sharply looked away. Nope, that was the last thing he needed right now, being distracted by what he could never have.

...

Although, what could be the harm in looking? Just a little, of course.

He tried to be inconspicuous, tried to make it look like he was just casually surveying the deck, eyes falling onto the stranger once again. Now he was leaning up against the rail, hat off, head back, soaking in the warm sun. He was even more handsome now than in profile, his chest rising and falling serenely. The girl next to him laughed and he turned to smile at the her and the little girl, Achilles turning sharply and walking to the opposite end of the deck. Yes, that right there was the harm in looking. You did not always like what you saw.

\--

Patroclus loved being on the deck. He loved the smell of the ocean, he loved the open air and sunshine, the wind on his face, the soft laughter from the scattered passengers around him. He and Briseis had waved to the people on the docks with the rest of the passengers before going below to stow away their belongings and quickly heading back up, not wanting to miss the view. Soon, it would be getting too cold to stand out there comfortably so they wanted to take full advantage.

A man had asked them to look after his daughter while he went to find someone. Briseis was helping her see the water when out of the corner of his eye, Patroclus saw the most beautiful stranger he had ever laid eyes on. Tall and lithe, he had gold hair pulled back in a low ponytail and the nape of his neck and eyes so green Patroclus could see them from a deck below. He tried to keep looking at the water while the man surveyed the lower deck, afraid to be caught staring. While the man was temporarily turned away, he whispered to Briseis.

"Oh my god, that man is gorgeous."

She shifted the little girl to her hip. "Act natural, but like, attractive natural, maybe he'll notice you."

Patroclus grinned and leaned up against the rail, whipping his hat off dramatically and letting his head fall back, posing. Briseis laughed at him and he grinned back.

"Natural and suave enough?"

She looked up at the top deck. "Oops, apparently not, you've lost your audience."

Patroclus couldn't help but feel disappointed when he too saw that the beautiful stranger was gone. "Well, you know the rich. Probably had to go sign papers to buy another island somewhere."

She laughed again, handing over the little girl to her father when he came back and thanked them. "Could be. Or perhaps you need to make more than 30 cents a day to catch his attention."

"Oh don't be so generous, it takes us like a week to find that much."

Briseis smiled and pushed away from the railing and stretched her arms over her head, yawning. "I'm going to get some sleep, I'm exhausted. You coming?"

Patroclus shook his head, looking to the setting sun. "I'm going to explore some more, I'll come back down later."

He watched his sister walk off before heading to one of the upper decks and laying out on an abandoned bench, watching the beautiful sky and sighing contentedly. After years of moving from place to place to place, it was nice knowing where he would be sleeping the next few nights.

\--

Achilles sat quietly through dinner, listening to everyone calmly speaking. Calmly speaking, always calmly speaking. Even when they were angry, even when they wanted to cry, it always had to be low and calm and controlled. He dragged his nails across the table cloth before digging them into his palms, trying to regulate his breathing. There were too many people, their voices too dinning and monotonous, too close to him. It felt like they were on him, battering him, bruising his skin, crawling over him and suffocating him. He had to get out of there.

He shoved his chair back abruptly, his mother, Deidemeia, and Hector all looking up at him in mild surprise.

"Forgive me, I need some fresh air. My stomach is not taking to the sea well."

Deidemeia began to stand. "I can accompany you, if you wish."

He shook his head quickly. No, god no that was the last thing he needed right now. "I will not be a moment, please continue your meal." He turned and walked as quickly as he could from the room. Once he thought he was finally free of their line of sight, he broke into a sprint, running down the halls, around corners, up flights of stairs and onto the upper decks. He paused a moment to get his bearings then ran to the back-most rail, looking out over the endless dark ocean, hair coming loose and disheveled. He yanked at it angrily, letting it all come undone before looking out at the sea, breathing hard.

What if he just jumped? It had to be his only way out, he couldn't think of anything else to do. He was on a ship, there was nowhere he could run, there was nowhere he could hide where he wouldn't be found. And once he got off this boat he would be escorted by his mother and Hector and Deidemeia to their lovely little country home where he would be under constant watch for the rest of his life. He couldn't take it, he couldn't take any of it, he had to get out, he had to get out.

Lifting one leg, he stepped onto one of the rails, then the others, holding onto the edge of a wall for balance as he looked down at the swirling water below him. They would be miles away before anyone noticed he was gone, he could just disappear and so would all of his problems.

"Hey, you ok?" He quickly turned, clinging to the wall for balance. Oh god, it was the stranger from earlier, looking incredibly concerned. "Would you like some help getting down?"

"I'm fine, go away." He turned back to the water, taking a few deep breaths.

"Well I know it's a great view and all, but that's not a very safe way to go about looking at things."

"Just leave me alone, ok?" Oh god, had his voice just cracked? Tears were welling in his eyes. He couldn't do this, but he also couldn't go through with the wedding either. He had to get out, somehow, or else he was going to go crazy.

"Look, just come down and we can talk, ok? If you don't like what I've got to say then you can get right back up there and I'll leave you alone. You've got nothing to lose but a couple minutes, right?"

"And if I haven't got a couple minutes? If it's now or never?" His hands were shaking, so were his legs. It was getting harder to keep his balance.

"Well I'm sure you could find sometime to get away later, it's a long boat trip." The man was at his elbow now, smiling kindly and offering his hand. "Just a second, ok? It won't take long, let's just talk." He was smiling so sweetly and looked so gentle, Achilles didn't want to disappoint him by jumping. He let go of the wall and moved to step down, but felt his feet sliding out from underneath him, crying out as he began falling forward, the dark black mass of unending water suddenly seeming very close.

A pair of arms locked around his middle, catching him and jerking them both backwards until they were sprawled on the deck floor, Achilles on top of the stranger and struggling to breath properly. He had just nearly died, he really could have died just then...

"Achilles!" Oh god. The last thing he needed right now was his mother.

He and the stranger struggled to get up but it was too late, they had all already arrived along with the quarter master.

"Get away from him!" Deidemeia rushed over to help him stand, Hector grabbing the stranger and hauling him up, not missing a beat before getting down to business.

"We would like to file an official complaint against this man for harassment."

Achilles watched in horror as the quarter master took out his hand cuffs and walked towards the kind stranger before stepping forward. "Wait, he didn't do anything, there was no harassment."

"Darling." Deidemeia put a hand to his arm, her voice calm but patronizing, as if speaking to a child. "We heard you yell, we could see he had grabbed you-"

"I fainted." He cleared his throat, trying to sound more assured in his lie. "I told you I left because I was not feeling well. I became overheated and realized I was going to faint, so I cried out for help. He tried to help but I must have knocked him over." He didn't like that he was painting himself as someone who fainted when upset, but he didn't know how else to help the kind stranger who was now looking at all of them with a wide eyed bewilderment before slowly nodding and following along with the story.

"Yeah, I didn't want him to hurt himself so I tried to help him. I guess I lost my footing when he fell."

Hector looked at him, obviously not believing this was what happened but unable to argue otherwise. "Good thing you let him fall on top of you then. He's worth more than you've ever seen in your life." He turned back to Achilles. "Come on, let's get him back to the rooms." His mother and Deidemeia each took a side and walked with him back to the rooms, chatting about how worried they had been when he hadn't come back to dinner.

He slowed down slightly and looked at the kind stranger over his shoulder, pointing to the bench and mouthing "Meet me there, tomorrow." He waited for the other mans confused nod before turning back and catching up with the others, taking a deep breath and lifting his head as if nothing were wrong. Tomorrow. He, at the very least, now had reason to look forward to tomorrow. He was curious what it was the kind man had wanted to say, what he thought he could say to change Achilles' mind about jumping.

Patroclus watched them all walk away, still very confused as to what the hell had just happened. He leaned against the railing and looked up at the stars overhead, chuckling a bit to himself. 

Tomorrow. Alright then.


	2. Chapter 2

Achilles sat in his state room, carefully brushing his hair and trying to still the rapid beating of his heart. He had been planning to jump off the ship. He nearly did. The kind stranger had saved him, and nearly been arrested for it. And now he was going to see him tomorrow. He set down the brush, putting his face in his hands. He felt so embarrassed about the whole thing, letting someone he didn't know see him so vulnerable like that... And now he would be willingly facing him tomorrow. Maybe he could claim some kind of sea madness or food poisoning... No, he didn't want to lie to the man, he had a face he couldn't bear to lie to. And all he wanted to do was help, he'd asked for nothing in return, even though he could probably tell Achilles was wealthy.

He quickly righted himself when he heard the door open. Deidameia walked into his room, smiling and waving to him and walking over to where he was sitting, standing behind him and beginning to brush his hair for him.

"I am sorry you were feeling unwell earlier. Has the feeling passed?"

He nodded, wincing as she pulled his hair a little with the brush. "Yes, I am feeling much better now."

"That is good." She continued brushing his hair and humming, giving him the feeling that she was waiting to say something and simply biding her time, trying to unnerve him. Once she had finished, she set the brush aside and sat down beside him, turning to face him.

"He was cute, wasn't he?"

He blanched a moment. "What?"

"The man who caught you." She stood then and walked to the other side of the room. He could still see her if he looked in the mirror. "Your mother has told me of your particular... Interests, as a young man."  _I am still only 20,_   _the same as you_ , he thought,  but did not say as she continued. "I know there may be times when you wish to back to those youthful fancies, dallying with other boys, but it is important that you remember we are bound together, you and I." She turned and smiled at him through the mirror then, laying one hand casually against her abdomen, making him swallow thickly. They had done... Certain things, at her behest, and she now would casually hint that she was pregnant if she felt she might be losing his interest. He did not know whether it was true or not. He tried not to flinch as she began walking towards him again, that sickly sweet, unnerving smile on her lips.

"I was not thinking-"

"Oh I know you were not." She was standing behind him again, one hand on his shoulder, like a mother scolding a misbehaving child. "Because we are engaged, Achilles. And to break such an agreement would be a terrible thing, for both of our families." Her smile became catlike. She knew his family had no money, that all they had left was their business and the good name his father left them. And her family had wealth to spare, but were completely unknown to the world, and did not want to be introduced as new money to be shamed by society. Their parents had betrothed them when they were young to fix this problem. That's all this was, that's what his life was being ruined for. Fixing a problem of status to save a little face.

She took something from behind her then and held it up to show him. It seemed to be a broach of some kind, one that he might pin to a dinner jacket for a nice dinner, but much larger and more extravagant than any he had seen before. The sapphire alone he could not even imagine how many carats. She leaned forward, putting her arms around him and holding the broach over his heart where he might pin it.

"It's in my dowry, meant to be yours once we are married. A diamond of incomparable size and color, unlike any other. No one shall ever doubt either of our positions with this on your breast and I on your arm." Her eyes glinted in the mirror, not looking at him but their future, with her finally getting the recognition in high society she felt she deserved. She had already begun to enjoy how the ladies of the ship included her in their gossip and conversations over tea. The broach was both a gift and a threat that should he try to break this agreement, she had the means to destroy him and his mother and what remained of their name.

"It is beautiful." Was all he said, but he knew it did not matter what he said at all.

\--

The next morning Patroclus awoke, exhausted from everything that had happened the night before. He had saved a mans life, a very attractive man at that, and had nearly been arrested for it. And now they were going to be meeting-

Wait, when he was he supposed to meet him there? Just any time that day? That wasn't very helpful. Well, at least it's not like he had plans or anything.

Briseis agreed to wait with him and keep him company in case it took a while, spending the morning people watching and making jokes to each other. It had started getting a little cooler now as they ventured further North so they bundled into their jackets a bit, hoping their rooms wouldn't get too cold at night.

"What if he doesn't show? Will you wait here again tomorrow?" She looked up at him, not so much judging as genuinely curious what his plans were with this interaction. What he could be hoping would come of it.

"I don't really know." He looked down, sliding his hands in his pockets. "I'd like to see him again just to make sure he's ok, you know? It wasn't like earlier yesterday when he was just hanging out on the deck. His eyes... He really wanted to jump, Bri. He was ready to end it right there, and I don't think the little scare he had was enough to make all those feelings go away. I'm worried, and I'd like to see him. And since I can't go to any of the first class decks..." He shrugged again, trying to sound more uninterested that he was. Truthfully, he wanted to see the beautiful stranger again very, very much.

They waited in silence for another half hour more when Briseis elbowed him and gestured to a blonde headed figure coming their way up the stairs, hurrying off so they could be alone once Achilles arrived.

The man sat down next to him, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear nervously and apoligising for keeping him. Patroclus smiled a bit at that, at the idea that he could make this man nervous. After a moment of awkward silence, the beautiful man spoke.

"Your wife is very beautiful." He nodded to where Briseis had gone, making Patroclus laugh.

"Wife? No, no. She's my sister." 

The strangers eyes widened a bit. "So, the child she was holding was...?"

"Just a little girl we were asked to watch while her father was speaking with an associate." Of all things for the man to bring up, this had not been one he expected. Why did he look so relieved that Patroclus wasn't married?  _Perhaps,_ a little voice inside him whispered,  _it is the same reason you are happy there is no ring on his finger either._ But no, that was impossible. How could he ever appeal to a man like this?

"I wanted to thank you. For last night, obviously. Not just for saving my life, but for... Well, for going along with what I told them. It may seem like an unimportant reason, but were they to know how I felt, things would not go well for me."

"Not to be too forward sir, but it seems things may not be going so well for you anyway."

The man looked down at his lap, sighing a little. "That is true. Well, perhaps not to everyone. I know how it sounds when I say it out loud, that there are worse things in the world than having a steady job and being married off to a rich woman but..." He didn't finish, just looked guiltily at the ocean until Patroclus nudged his elbow.

"Take it from me, money isn't everything. I'm a poor guy and I'm happy, and I can't imagine being stuck married off to someone just for money. I'd want to get out too. Although jumping off the back of a ship may not be the best way to do that." 

The beautiful stranger smiled at him sadly then extended a hand. "My name is Achilles, by the way. It is nice to meet you." It struck him later that this was the first time he introduced himself without his last name as well. The first time he felt he didn't need it.

"And I am Patroclus. It is nice to meet you." They smiled at one another, forgetting about the chill in the air or the people around them.

"So." Achilles started, because he had to start somewhere. He did not want the man to leave, not when he wanted so much to get to know him. There was something about him that was magnetic, that made him want to stay by his side as long as he could. "Tell me about yourself, then?"

They sat for hours, Patroclus telling him about his father having very little interest in him and his sister, how they'd been orphaned as teenagers and had to make it on their own, that Patroclus had a knack for medicine and carving, as did his sister, and they were able to make their way all over the country, then abroad when they wanted to travel, living on the streets but always having each other. Achilles listened rapturously.

"You've really gone to all those places? What are they like?" He knew he was probably being very improper, leaning forward and listening like a small child, but he couldn't help it. The idea of living such a life was intoxicating.

"It's all wonderful. That's the nice thing about the world, you know? You just gotta get find a way to get somewhere, and the rest just opens up if you know how to find it. Take this, for example. Two days ago we were trying to figure out how to find someplace to eat, now we are on the RMS Titanic headed for America. You just need to keep your eyes open, there are opportunities everywhere."

Achilles shook his head. "Not for me, I'm stuck. I get off this ship and I'm tied to the same stretch of a hundred or so miles forever." He sighed and leaned back, looking up at the sky.

"What happens if you just... Don't?"

He frowned. "It's not that simple."

"I know it's not simple, but what would happen? You just say no, get out of the whole thing, and you're home free. What's the worst that could happen?"

"Well I would be on the street, completely alone, penniless-"

"Ahh, we could help you. You could be part of our little family." He smiled toothily at Achilles, face so kind and sincere even though they barely knew each other.

"I can't imagine how much of a bother I'd be..."

"Oh you wouldn't bother us, it'd be fun to have a new face around."

Achilles didn't want to hope, didn't want to let his imagination take over and think about what it would be like to travel the country, the world, with this man, but the part of his brain that had been screaming for release had finally latched onto this tiny beam of hope.

"Ok, say we did do that. Where would we go?" Patroclus loved the light in the beautiful mans eyes at the sound of freedom and possibility.

"Well, we would go everywhere! We would go to the southern beaches where the ocean is warm, we could climb mountains, live in big cities or small towns. We could go anywhere we wanted to go, do anything we wanted to do. We'd have our whole lives to do it too." He took a smooth rock from his pocket, tossing it in the air and catching it. "I can teach you how to skip rocks."

Achilles smiled. "Well, why wait? Teach me now." Impulsively, he took Patroclus' hand and lead him to an area near the rail no one else was using. "Show me how to throw it. So when we get to those beaches, I'll already know." He'd never felt this open before, this energetic. He was afraid Patroclus would think he was strange but he was happily going along with it all.

"Here," he stepped behind Achilles, giving him the warm, smooth rock to hold and positioning his body properly. "You're gonna want to flick your wrist, like this." He demonstrated for him. "They're driving the ship pretty slow right now, so try and keep your eye on it as it goes, to see if it stays flat."

"But don't you want to keep it? I don't want to waste it on a bad throw."

"Don't you worry, I've got plenty. Just try it." He kept a soft hold on Achilles' arms, guiding him through the motion a few times before he did it for himself, letting the rock go and watching it sail through the air. He squinted and couldn't keep in the yell of excitement as he saw the rock skip once before sinking out of sight.

"It worked! Can I try again?" Patroclus kept giving him more to use and skip, Achilles getting better and better with each throw. Patroclus commented that he was probably even better than he was, but he didn't say it with mirth or jealousy. He seemed genuinely happy for Achilles that he was doing so well and had such a talent for it.

Soon Patroclus arms were a little more intimately around him as he was showing him a new trick when they heard a throat being cleared behind them. They both quickly jumped apart, Patroclus putting his arms behind his back. His mother, Deidameia, and a man he did not recognize were standing before him. His mother looked angry, Deidameia was looking as if she were deciding whether or not she should cry here or later when they were alone, and the man looked as if he found the whole thing very amusing.

Achilles, seeing how embarrassed Patroclus was, quickly stepped forward. "Mother, Deidameia, wonderful to see you both. And I am sorry sir, but I do not know that I recognize you. I am Achilled Pelides." He stuck out his arm and was immediately met by a firm handshake. "Wonderful to meet you."

The man looked even more amused now. "No need to apologize, we have not yet been introduced. I am Odysseus. I was simply getting to know your enchanting mother and fiancee here." He winked. Achilles had heard of this man. He was new money, and rather notoriously boisterous with an inability to know when to stop talking. This gave Achilles an idea.

"Well, it seems you two have met someone knew and so have I. How about we have you both dine with us tonight?" He smiled at Patroclus, as if they had just been discussing this very thing. "My new friend Patroclus here gave me quite a helping hand last night, and I am sure you have some wonderful stories we would all love to hear. Mr. Odysseus." His mother seemed stuck between being furious at him for inviting these two undesirables to dine with them, and happy he had the forethought to make connections with someone so wealthy and irresponsible with his money. Deidameia seemed like she had decided crying now would be best rather than later. Quickly, his mother stepped in.

"That sounds like an excellent idea. Achilles, why don't you come back with us, we shall need your help finding what clothes to wear tonight. Odysseus, Patroclus, we shall see you both at six o' clock this evening." She waved a gloved hand and led Achilles and Deidameia away quickly before any more could be said by anyone.

Patroclus watched Achilles in awe a moment before he noticed a snort from Odysseus.

"You've got no idea what you're getting into, do you?"

Patroclus shook his head, keeping his eyes on the blonde figure receding from view. "No sir, I'd say I've got no idea at all."

Odysseus nodded. "Well, they'll try to make a fool out of both of us, you can bet on that, so we'll have to stick together tonight. First thing's first... You're going to need something besides that to wear tonight. Follow me."


	3. Chapter 3

Patroclus had to admit, he looked good in a suit. He had been scrubbed within an inch of his life and Odysseus had lent him one of the suits he had bought for his son, which fit nicely besides being a little short in the wrists.

"You shine up nice, kid."

"Do you think he'll- Do you think they'll like it?" He tried smoothing his hair back again. There was that one bit behind his ear that just never liked to lie flat. He had never been self conscious of it before now.

"Oh I think he'll like how you look just fine." He winked at him through the mirror then went to find his own suit. "You go on ahead, I'll meet you down there. I'm going to need a brandy or two in me before I can stand any of those people."

Patroclus waved to his retreating form then ducked out of the room. It was strange, not just being in the first class, but not being looked at twice while in the first class hall. To all these people, he belonged. It was very strange indeed.

Walking down the grand staircase, he stopped to marvel at how everyone was dressed. He had seen pictures of people at their upperclass parties, sure, but this... He had never seen dresses so ornate, women covered in so many jewels their skin seemed to sparkle. There were four chandeliers in this room alone, and it was only the outer room for the dining room, which seemed to have a small chandelier for every table.  The nicest place he'd ever been was a diner, and then that hotel he stood in for about five minutes before he was told to wait outside for the man whose package he was delivering.

 He couldn't say how long he stood staring in awe at the top of the stairs by the grand clock, but after a moment he felt a light tap on his arm that made him jump. He turned and found Achilles looking more wonderful, more handsome, more beautiful, more  _everything_ than he had ever seen someone look. His beautiful golden hair was tied back at the nape of his neck and brushed to a brilliant shine. His eyes glittered like what Patroclus imagined emeralds might look like, and on his breast was the largest, most beautiful gemstone he had seen, and he had seen quite a few this night.

"You look..." He could not put into words how Achilles looked. Effervescent maybe? No, he could never say something like that.

"Patroclus." Achilles eyes shown happily. He was much better with words. "I am so happy to see you, you look wonderful."

"Yes, Mr. Odysseus was very helpful. He even had a tailor take in the sides a little at the last minute so the jacket would fit." He turned this way and that so Achilles could admire the craftsmanship. Achilles fingered the hem appreciatively, Patroclus' face heating a little when he noticed that it almost seemed like Achilles was using it as an excuse to let his knuckles glide over his ribs and down to his waist.

"Well! Don't you clean up nice? I almost can't tell you have a third class ticket." Deidameia seemed to appear from nowhere behind Achilles, and Patroclus didn't miss how he seemed to visibly deflate at her presence. Patroclus felt torn when it came to her. For Achilles' sake he disliked her because she seemed to be fairly mean spirited and making him miserable at every turn, plus on the few occasions they had met she had insulted him each time. However, if Achilles was his, he would probably be tempted to do whatever he could to keep him as well.

However, if he wanted to continue to be around this beautiful man for the duration of the trip, he would have to be civil to his fiancee.

"That means a lot coming from you, lady Deidameia." He bowed to her and noted the flush of pride in her cheeks. Hopefully that won him some points. "Shall we adjourn to the dining room?" Hopefully he would not have to talk to the rest of them much for the rest of the meal, that was the extent of his impressive vocabulary. 

"Of course." Her smile reminded him of an alligator he had seen once. "Patroclus, walk me to dinner." She stunned him by taking his arm then, leaving Achilles free to escort his mother. Patroclus silently walked her to their table, wincing at the sting of her nails digging into his arm like a warning.  _You can play all the games with him that you want on this ship, but in three days he gets off with me._

The thought made him sad but even more determined to enjoy this little adventure he had stumbled upon. Soon it would be over and he'd be back to his usual life without this brilliant comet to light up his life unexpectedly.

Odysseus was already at their table and smoking a cigarette, beaming at them and waving. "Madame Deidameia, Madame Pelides, it is wonderful to be in the presence of your radiance once again." He bowed to them but made sure to wink at Patroclus before sitting back down. Patroclus did happen to notice that where he sat set the table to be arranged in a way that left Patroclus sitting beside Achilles. There was far more to the mind games of the rich than he had bargained for.

Looking at his plate, he found himself met by more forks than he had ever seen at one time.

"Are these all for me?"

Odysseus leaned towards him. "Cold one is for salad, start from the outside and roll your way in. If all else fails, no one's going to pay attention anyway." Achilles snorted and Patroclus stuck his tongue out at him.

"How do you take your caviar sir?" He jumped again. Jesus, these fancy people were quiet when they walked.

"Oh um, you know, the usual way?" He had no idea what caviar was, but they looked like tiny black beads that had been sprayed with water, and someone was now putting them on a piece of toast. He used to envy the meals of the rich, but now was beginning to doubt that they had any idea what they were doing.

Taking a cautious bite, he found it tasted a bit buttery but he couldn't handle the texture. As surreptitiously as he could he wiped his tongue on his napkin. Perhaps he was meant to be poor, he could never eat things like this on a regular basis.

Achilles leaned close to his ear. "It gets better later, I promise." He smiled at Patroclus then but his eyes looked nervous, as if he were afraid he needed to convince Patroclus to stay. He made sure to smile back and nod enthusiastically.

The rest of dinner went... Surprisingly well. Odysseus kept Achilles' mother and fiancee occupied enough with stories of his adventures in making his millions that Achilles and Patroclus were left to spend the night talking with one another. Achilles was fascinating, truly. A master marksman and fencer, a beautiful lyricist, player of numerous instruments, and talented singer. Patroclus was in awe of all this man had done, even with the limitations of his constricting family. Patroclus didn't think he could accomplish so much in an entire lifetime.

One of the most shocking things about Achilles was that, for some reason, he was just as interested in Patroclus as he was in Achilles. He listened rapturously to Patroclus' tales of learning medicine from a family friend, travelling the world with his sister, selling wood carvings to get by when they needed, working odd jobs where they could. He had been a house painter, a carpenter, a fisherman, and even a personal body guard at one time. Luckily, most people thought he could fight better than he could because he was naturally stocky. Achilles' eyes would grow wider at each story, eyes glittering, often whispering things like "Really?" "That truly happened?" and "Well what happened next?"

Finally, the last of the chocolate tart had been eaten and everyone sat back happily. Patroclus could not remember the last time he had been so full.

"Well." Odysseus slapped the table happily. "I guess it is time for us gentlemen to retire and leave you ladies to your talk and your tea." The each took turns bowing to the women before departing. Odysseus and Achilles began making their way to the smoking room but Patroclus caught his arm.

"How would you like a little excitement tonight, hmm?"

\--

Achilles could practically feel the noise hitting him as the walked down the stairs to the small room where the lower class passengers were dancing and having a much better party than any he had ever been to. He assumed it had something to do with not worrying what everyone around them thought, that they simply wished to enjoy themselves and had decided to do just that.

Achilles had left his coat back in his sitting room to keep the giant broach from catching too much attention. He was glad he did the moment he entered the room, noticing that it was the warmest place on the ship that he had been to so far, to the point where he unbuttoned quite a few buttons and rolled up his sleeves.

He noticed Patroclus' sister, Briseis, dancing with a colorfully dressed woman on the makeshift dance floor, her large skirts swirling around them.

Patroclus was laughing with a dark bearded man over some joke Achilles hadn't heard. He thought he should feel left out, like an outsider, but he felt quite at home among these happily boisterous people. And any time he felt himself fading into the background Patroclus would call to him and ask his opinion on a drink or someones hat, or how he liked the music.

After what felt like ages they came to a bar, Achilles parched.

"What do you suggest?"

Patroclus grinned wickedly and turned to the man at the makeshift bar. 

"He'll have a Dart, please." He placed a small coin on the table and an empty glass was placed in front of Achilles, along with three darts and a blindfold. A number of onlookers began gathering.

"And this is...?"

Patroclus grinned wider. "You put on the blindfold and throw three darts at that dart board." He pointed to a board on the wall covered in the names of alcohol brands, some he knew and many he did not from other countries or that had been considered of low taste among the upper class. "You get equal amounts of whatever you get, no matter what it is."

"That sounds awful!"

"Well obviously! The point isn't to taste good, it's to show how terrible of a drink you're willing to drink, then you brag about it to everyone else who's done it."

"Have you done it then?" He put on his blindfold and was positioned before the dart board.

"Of coarse. One part absinthe, one part French mulled wine, one part cheap beer. Slept for thirteen hours straight, dreamt I was on the bottom of the ocean speaking to a woman made of sea weed. Try not to hit the absinthe."

Achilles chuckled and carefully tossed his dart, no idea what he was aiming for. A few appreciative noises rose so hopefully it wasn't too bad. Then the next along with a laugh, and then the final with a louder laugh.

"Well I hope you like whiskey, cause you're going to be drinking about two glasses full mixed with a lovely sweet white and a reasonably priced gin."

Achilles gagged a little as he took off his blindfold. He hated sweet wines as well as whiskey, and he'd never dared try gin. The bartender poured an obscene amount of whiskey into his glass, or rather a mug for how much liquid was poured in. Then came the white wine which turned the mixture to a ghastly pale milky color, worsened by the gin.

"All in one go, come on!" Patroclus grinned at him and anyone nearby was watching him. He knew he was not expected to handle it well. Closing his eyes, he drank the horrible concoction down in four agonizing swallows, everything burning his throat and coating his tongue in a terrible film. When he slammed the empty mug down, face puckering, the crowd around him cheered and more coins rattled against the counter as everyone ordered their own Darts, the bartender grinning as he dolled out all the darts he had. Patroclus led him to a chair to recover, laughing at the faces he made.

"Well you didn't throw it up, so there's that. Briseis did that her first time. Red wine and brandy do not mix well together in the same glass."

He laughed, a little higher and louder than normal, his brain already beginning to fog over with the immensity of the alcohol he just ingested. And to be honest, it was making Patroclus look even better than before. That messy dark hair, those large dark eyes, the beautiful nut brown skin. He remembered times as a younger man when he had tasted the skin of other boys, traced soft flesh and kissed the tenderest points of their bodies. But none of those passions held a candle to what he was rapidly beginning to feel for the beautiful man before him. He wanted nothing more than to lean forward, catch the hollow of his throat under his mouth, trace his collarbone with his tongue, scrape that delicious jaw with his teeth. He leaned forward, lips parted...

Patroclus touched a finger to his mouth. "Tomorrow. If you still wish to, do it tomorrow." He smiled then. "I do not want it to be alcohol that makes you want to kiss me, good sir Achilles."

He sat back and nodded, wishing he had the presence of mind to explain that this was something he wanted for a long time, something he would continue to want beyond their parting at the end of this voyage. Somewhere a clock sounded and he looked over at it.

"I should get back, before anyone notices." He looked back to Patroclus. "Meet me tomorrow, on the bench again? Please?" He was too eager, too forward, too impatient and too improper and Patroclus seemed to love it all. He nodded eagerly and helped Achilles up.

"One dance first." He smiled that beautiful smile that made Achilles weak in the knees. "Just one dance."

Achilles was pulled onto the dance floor as a fast song he did not recognize was struck up. Many pairs danced alongside them, moving their bodies happily with no set steps to follow. Achilles twirled and slid and tugged at Patroclus this way and that, laughing at the joy and freedom of the dancing he had never enjoyed before. Finally he and Patroclus were holding hands and spinning around rapidly, laughing and clutching at each other tightly to keep from falling over or spinning out of control.

Later, in bed, after Patroclus had walked him back to his room, one arm curled protectively around his back to keep him upright, commenting that he was quite the lightweight for someone who supposedly drank brandy each night after dinner. Later, his head was swimming and it had little to do with the alcohol. This man was more intoxicating than any drink could ever be, as if he were made to be the exact combination of perfection designed to undo Achilles at every seam, to tear down everything he thought he was and reveal who he truly was when no one was watching.

He found that he was liking the man emerging from the rubble far more than the man he was before this beautiful earthquake stripped him of his guarding walls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretty sure I'm not at all consistent with how I spell Deidameia (?). Please forgive me, I'm doing my best and am poor at spelling


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some vaguely nsfw-ish coming

Achilles is dreaming. He's not sure where he is exactly, but he can feel the rocking of the ocean beneath him, and he can see a deep navy sky filled with stars above him, but he's warm and safe and nothing is wrong in the world. He's swaying back and forth on the current, drifting and drifting, miles away from anyone or anything else that could bother him. He thinks he might fall asleep all over again, it's so calm and peaceful.

Then all of a sudden, an icy wave crashes the side of what he now sees is a small boat, washing over him over him and jerking him awake, soaking wet and sputtering in his bed, tangled in his blankets. Hector is looming over him with a metal bucket in his hands, his face blank.

"My mistress sent me to wake you. Get dressed and go to the dining room, she would like to have a word with you before breakfast." With that he shook the remaining water onto the carpet and walked out, leaving Achilles staring after him in stunned silence. He groaned, rubbing at his sore head. He was not built for alcohol, especially all mixed up like that. He would have to tell Patroclus that the next time he saw him. Oh god, his cheeks began burning when he remembered more of last night, of trying to kiss him, of Patroclus promising he could once he had sobered up. He didn't know if he would have the courage to try again without bursting into flames from the embarrassment. But if he was interested...

Toweling himself off and putting on some clean clothes, he tried to calm himself down and not think about kissing Patroclus, touching Patroclus, doing things with Patroclus, Patroclus doing things to him...

Deidemeia was standing by the window in their dining parlor, looking out at the rising sun. Jesus, what time was it? There were no clocks anywhere in the private dining room, probably to make the occupants continue to order more food and drinks halfway into the night. At any rate, far too early to be up, especially with a hangover. He poured himself a glass of juice that was already set on the table. They must have made some poor maid get up extra early just to make up the table for this.

"Sit down, Achilles." Deidemeia didn't look at him, just kept looking out over the water. He took a sip and settled into a chair, stifling a yawn. He waited for some time while she continued to watch the water, the sun slowly rising before them as they watched. Soon the silence became too oppressive and he cleared his throat, tapping at the table.

"Is there something that you need? Any reason you had your manservant flood my bed this morning?" He drained his drink, annoyed. Another maid was probably going to be stuck figuring out how to dry an entire bed.

"Where did you go last night? You were gone much longer than the other men, and they said you did not join them in the smoking room."

"I do not smoke, the smell-"

"I had hoped," she cut in, ignoring his reasoning. "That you would join me for the evening so that we may discuss our future together. We have spent so little of our time on this vessel together." She turned and smiled at him then. "So we will be spending today together, just the two of us in the morning, and then I thought we could join our friends for the afternoon. I have told everyone that we are not to be disturbed until lunch." She laid her hand against her abdomen again, another silent threat. 

"I actually had plans to spend some time with someone else today. We have the rest of our lives to talk about these things..." He stood, wiping imaginary dust from his clothing for something to do. "I will see you this evening perhaps, or tonight."

The smile slunk from her face as he spoke and without warning, she grabbed onto the table cloth in front of them and threw it off the table, sending the plates and glasses crashing to the floor at Achilles' feet as he jumped back to avoid them.

"What the hell?!"

"I am more important to you than anyone you've met on this damned ship! I am your wife in practice and in a matter of days we will be bound by law and by god, eternally. You will honor me and your commitments and you will stop these childish games you're playing with that third class mutt! I have looked the other way in the past but I can no longer when you flaunt yourself in front of others as you did last night."

He narrowed his eyes. "So you had me followed again, then?"

"Obviously I have to, as I can no longer trust you to maintain appearances and keep your perversions behind closed doors." She straightened, flicking a piece of broken glass from her skirts, face once again cheerily calm and composed as if nothing had just happened and they were simply discussing what they might have for breakfast. "You will attend breakfast with your mother and myself. We will then spend the morning, just the two of us, on our balcony discussing the details of our upcoming nuptials. Then, we shall spend the day with families of our own class. We have lost time getting in with them as you dallied about, so we must spend all the time we have making up for that. Which means no more sneaking off to meet Patrick."

"Patroclus." His voice was barely audible to himself as he stood with his back against the wall like a cornered mouse before the cat. "His name is Patroclus." 

"His name is not important, not anymore, not to you." With that she took him by his arm and lead him out to meet his mother for breakfast, a silent maid looking to him mournfully before she began picking up the glass piece by piece.

\--

Patroclus waited all day on the bench for Achilles to come. He dressed early that morning in a thick old coat he had found last winter, pulled on a thick pair of boots, and made sure to get to their meeting place early so he wouldn't risk missing him. But the day simply went on and there was no sign of his new friend. He pulled his coat tighter around himself against the bitter cold that surrounded them now, larger and larger chunks of ice drifting by. Achilles had said he would come, he promised.

He immediately straightened every time he heard someone coming up the steps, fixing his hair and his jacket. But it was never him. What had happened? Maybe he wasn't feeling well after the drinking last night. It had only been one drink, albeit a bad one, but he couldn't be  _that_ hungover. After it was late into the afternoon and he couldn't feel his feet anymore from the cold, he gave up and went back inside, fighting back the deep hurt and confusion of being left without a word. He knew he didn't know this man that well, but it still hurt that he would just blow him off like this, like he didn't matter. And maybe he didn't matter as much to the beautiful rich man as he thought he did. Maybe he had just been a distraction until he found something more fun to do. It hadn't felt like that, but what did he know? He was never a good judge of character, especially when he was blinded by feelings as strong as these.

On a whim, he went up a flight of stairs to the first class level, wandering aimlessly, feeling more lost than he had any right to feel. He had never felt self conscious of how low class he looked until now, after he had walked among them like he belonged. Now people who had politely smiled at him wrinkled their noses and turned away from his old worn clothes and disheveled look. His face burned with shame and anger began bubbling in his stomach. What right did Achilles have to make him feel this way? He hadn't done anything wrong to deserve to be treated like this. All he had done was try to make him happy and now he was just being thrown away? Without even a word? What was the point of trying to kiss him last night if none of it even mattered?

He stopped outside the tea room and looked through the clear glass doors, seeing Achilles sitting surrounded by many people he had seen the night before, and even more he hadn't, all dressed as lovely as ever, but none as lovely as Achilles. Even in a plain white shirt and pair of tan pants, he shone more radiantly than them all put together. They were all laughing at something Mr. Odysseus had said but Achilles was staring at his cup, eyes glassed over. Patroclus' anger melted away as he watched his miserable friend. He should have known this might have happened, that they weren't as subtle as they had hoped and his uptight family would decide enough was enough. He had just hoped it wouldn't be so soon.

He coughed and tapped on the glass a few times, Achilles looking up and locking eyes with him. They looked at each other a moment, Patroclus hoping he would get up and come to him, to leave behind everything that was hurting him and just free himself. Because as much as Patroclus would like to do it for him, he couldn't. It was something he had to do on his own. But he didn't. He just swallowed then turned to someone who had asked him a question, giving an answer Patroclus couldn't hear. So with that as his answer, Patroclus turned and headed back down to the third class level, not looking back. He would not push where he was not wanted.

Briseis noticed he was quiet that night and tried to get him to talk but he just shook his head and said he wasn't in the mood just yet, that he had some thinking he had to do. If he said what had happened, she would want to be angry with Achilles for him. He felt like maybe he should be mad at Achilles, maybe call him a coward, but he couldn't. Even if he had chosen to be with people who made him miserable, he couldn't begrudge him for wanting to stay safely in the only world he had ever known and not throw it away on a man he knew for three days. 

Once he had eaten he went back onto the top deck, standing at the helm of the ship, letting the cool air clear his head. He knew it was stupid, that he never should have let himself truly believe that this beautiful, perfect man would want to give up his life of being rich and well taken care of to live on the streets with a bum like him, never knowing what would happen the next day. It wasn't the life someone like him could ever truly like or want, he would just have to accept-

"Hey." He jumped and turned to find Achilles standing a few feet behind him. 

"Hey." He swallowed, not sure what to expect to come next. Achilles shuffled his feet nervously, hands behind his back. He looked like a kid expecting a scolding.

"I- I changed my mind." He looked up at Patroclus then, face set firmly, no longer undecided or afraid. "I've made my decision."

"And w-what decision would that be?" He felt breathless, like all the air had left his lungs. This couldn't really be happening, could it? He couldn't really be so lucky as to have this just fall into his lap from destiny?

Achilles walked over to him slowly and took his hand, his other hand lifting to shakily thread through Patroclus' hair, pulling him into a firm kiss, a statement. Patroclus stood shocked for a moment before he put his hands to Achilles' hips, pulling him in tight and locking him into his embrace. He couldn't believe that someone like this had truly chosen him over everything, was now pressed against him, warm mouth moving under his, long fingers gripping his hair. If he was under some bridge dreaming, he hoped he never woke up.

Achilles moved his mouth back ever so slightly, their lips still brushing against one another gently, breathing hard. "I don't want to belong to them anymore, I don't want to belong to anyone. But I do want to be with you, if you would have me. I want to spend my time and my freedom with you."

Patroclus was sure he was grinning like an idiot the entire time Achilles was speaking to him, unable to express how happy he was. He really was choosing him. Someone in this world was choosing him. All he could do was lift him up and spin him around, laughing happily, Achilles laughing with him, the sweetest sound he had ever heard. It was like the night before, only now there was no fear for tomorrow, no more worry of being discovered and separated.

"Hey!" They both jumped and looked up, Patroclus setting Achilles down, arms still around one another. The man Achilles had warned him about, Hector,  was standing there in front of the open door, glaring at them. He moved his coat jacket back slightly, revealing a gun holstered to his hip. Achilles tensed.

"Run!" He grabbed Patroclus' hand and began running in the other direction as fast as his legs could carry him.

\--

Breakfast with his mother and fiancee was a quiet affair. They chatted about this and that but never really asked for much of his input on anything. Most of the decisions had already been decided and ordered, but it sounded like they would have to make a rush order to a new florist. Achilles wanted hyacinths, but they wanted roses so it would be roses. He wasn't sure why they even bothered asking him in the first place. Things just seemed to go more smoothly with them if he didn't actually speak beyond quiet agreement with whatever they had just said.

Their alone time on their balcony was much of the same. He was told about what music would be played, what colors the bridesmaids gowns were and what arrangements were available if it rained on their wedding day. Then there was talk of what kind of dancing there would be and that even after all the lessons he had taken as a child, as well as the extra they had taken together, he was to do minimal dancing as it would be for her to shine and not him. He wouldn't really feel like dancing anyway. He simply sipped his drink and nodded whenever she paused for affirmation that he was listening. He was good at pretending to listen, and he didn't think it really mattered if he was or not. She just seemed happy to hear her own voice. At least the view of the ocean was nice, although the ice made him nervous. He wasn't very fond of being cold, and his jacket was much more for show than practicality.

Lunch and tea were more of the same, although now he was stuck with even more people he had to react to and pretend to be listening to, neither of which was his forte. He felt like he was lying, and he really hated lying, even if it felt like it was all he did. He heard a soft tapping against the glass doors and looked up. He could see Patroclus through the doors, saw the lost puppy look in his eyes as he stood there alone, saw that he was offering him something. He was opening a door, one that no one else had ever opened for him, and no one else ever would again. A door he could escape through, but one he could never go back through again. So he stalled. He couldn't face such a change, such a decision. No matter how miserable he was, he didn't feel ready. He felt like a coward but he couldn't do it, not then, not with everyone around him, watching him, pressing in and suffocating him. He was afraid.

And when he looked up again, it was to see Patroclus' receding back. The door was closing, and he was sitting there watching it close. 

The rest of the day went by as if he were in a dream, a parade of faces and laughter and forcing smiles. He felt as if he were seeing his future before his eyes; standing beside Deidemeia as she entertained guests he did not know, pretending to care about the idle chatter he did not feel part of and that was never really directed at him. Working in an office one day, standing in front of a window as he looked over a congested city, a hundred workers depending on his decisions for their jobs and for their lives. A home, filled with both screeching anger and suffocating silence, just like that morning. Nowhere to escape, no where he could breathe. A bubble of fear began growing within him as the reality of his future became clearer. He had always known this was coming, but now that he had seen what his life could be if he were free he felt as if he were being strangled by the fear. He could not do this, not anymore.

He had waited until everyone was distracted by a story Mr. Odysseus was telling during dinner and snuck out under a half murmured excuse about the bathroom, unaware that Hector had noticed. It took some time to find Patroclus, but finally he spotted that unmistakable form by the rail, soaking in the cool air. He still took Achilles' breath away as he looked at that strong profile, those delicate closed eyes. 

He had feared Patroclus would say he had missed his chance, that he wouldn't forgive him for choosing the others over him, call him a coward, a liar, spoiled and weak-willed. But he had been welcomed with open arms (and an open mouth) and he could not describe the relief of knowing he had not lost his only chance at happiness and freedom.

And then he heard the unmistakable rasp of Hectors voice, and he knew they had to run. He had seen what Hector could do to those he did not like, men who backed out of lucrative deals with his Deidemeia's father and found themselves back in his office a week later, with a broken leg and a willingness to cut their price in half, and he would do anything to please the daughter of the man signing his checks.

"Run!" He grabbed onto Patroclus and ran, Patroclus following close behind, gesturing to a crowd they could slip through. They ran through another door and down a flight of steep stairs, darting through door after door, going through winding hallways and any place that looked like they could hide, both gasping for breath. Curious glances followed them but they couldn't take the time to care how they were looking. They made their way out of housing quarters and into darker and more cramped crew quarters with more options for hiding. Finally, Patroclus pushed them both into a closet with a lock on the inside, keeping them safe for the time being.

Achilles was panting, his cheek pressed to Patroclus' jaw as they stood close in the cramped closet, trying to reclaim their breath. Brooms and mops and cleaning supplies were packed tightly into the small corners with hardly enough room for the two of them. Patroclus' arms slipped around him and pulled him in tight, Achilles hugging him back and pressing against him, heart hammering in his chest. He could hear the heavy footfalls of Hector getting closer to their hiding spot and he stopped breathing, afraid of making any noise that could alert him to their presence. Patroclus' arms tensed but his breath stayed even, and Achilles wondered how many times he'd had to hide from people who were chasing and trying to hurt him. 

He heard the feet pause near their closet, turning this way and that, then went on their way past them. Patroclus sagged in relief, pressing their foreheads together.

"Now what?"

"We wait a little longer, then go in the opposite direction. It's a big ship, we can find somewhere to hide." Patroclus nodded against his head and they stayed pressed together, the trembling in Achilles' limbs slowly subsiding and tiredness began setting in after the adrenaline had drained from him. He leaned more heavily against Patroclus and let himself be caressed and loved for a few minutes as they waited to feel safe enough to leave. Achilles didn't think he'd feel safe until he had left the ship and the rest of his family long behind. Maybe even then they'd still look for him.

Finally, they were able to sneak out and find a crewman's passage down yet another flight of stairs. Coming out of the cramped passage, they found themselves in the storage area of the ship, surrounded by cars that were being transported and large suitcases and crates of other shipped goods. He knew the ship was huge, larger than any other people would claim, but he had never seen so much of it at once. It just seemed to go on and on, and this was only one small part, he had heard there were a number of sections like this along the base in case of flooding. 

Achilles decided to head over to one of the nicer cars to rest, opening the door and sliding onto the plush green velvet, pulling Patroclus in behind him. It was nicer than his family car, much nicer, but they had not been able to afford a new car for a few years. Deidemeia had been looking at a model like this, with the larger and much more plush seats. A car for a growing family she had called it.

"We should be safe down here, he'll give up looking before he finds us here. He won't think I'm here, he doesn't think I'm smart enough to get myself down here." He finally relaxed back into the seat, letting the soft cushion pillow against his sore muscles and stiff spine, head pillowed on Patroclus' strong shoulder. A pair of strong arms encircled him and a warm mouth pressed against his temple. Achilles thought that was another door too, Patroclus asking what he wanted to do, what he wanted from him. He knew they could stay like that if he wanted and that was as far as they would go, and part of him was tempted. Tempted to only take one life changing step at a time. But dammit, he was tired of being careful. 

Shifting, he turned and pressed his mouth to that lush lower lip, turning his body to loop his arms around Patroclus' neck, pulling himself to his knees and pushing against him. A broad hand rubbed at his hip, the other going under his shirt to splay against his back, running his fingers over the knobs of his spine and making him shiver. Oh yes, he wanted this too.

His fingers fumbled on the old buttons of Patroclus' shirt, pulling it open and running his hands over the broad warmth of the smooth, dark skin. His shoulders were peppered with kisses while he worked and his pants were pulled open, fingers exploring places he hadn't been properly touched in a very long time and he finally closed his eyes and let go. 

\--

Patroclus woke to a pleasant weight on top of him and an unpleasant crick in his neck. It seemed that a large frame did not fit well into a small cabin, much less two piled on top of each other.

Achilles' head was nestled against his neck, body folded up around him in their cramped backseat like they had done this a thousand times and he belonged there. He couldn't tell what time it was or how long they had been down there, but by the rumbling sound from their stomachs he guessed it was getting closer to morning than it was to dinner. While he was absolutely hungry, it was hard to want to move. Achilles' was beautifully disheveled on top of him, golden hair wild and bright against his dark skin. His body was even more wonderfully sculpted than Patroclus had imagined; smooth and muscled like a statue or a young god, all firm smooth lines and beautifully curved muscles. His hand had been resting on his new lovers thigh, both covered by his coat while they had slept. He ran a gentle finger over the soft pink lips that he had become very acquainted with recently, marveling at their smoothness and the baffling situation he had found himself in. Five days before he had been on the street not sure where his next meal would be coming from, and now he had an angel sleeping against his chest on the grandest ship in the world, inside a car that probably cost more than he would ever see. And Achilles had chosen him. He had the promise of money and a secure, safe future and he had chosen him and the life they might make together.

Achilles made a soft waking up noise and wrinkled his noise as he yawned, rubbing his face with the back of his hand.

"Mmm, we still in the car?"

"Yup." Patroclus yawned. "We should probably move soon, I'm sure they check down here every once in a while for stow aways." Achilles nodded and sat up, still straddling Patroclus and looking around for where he tossed his shirt and shivering a little as the cool air touched his still sweat damp skin, the coat falling to the floor and leaving them both exposed. Patroclus wiggled back into his pants as they figured out which shirt was which, Achilles' cheeks noticeably warm.

"After everything we just did, you can't really be embarrassed, are you?" He tried to smile playfully but it was hard when he was getting such a view. Achilles grinned at him.

"I may have had my 'dalliances' with other men, but you're the only one I've ever done this with."

"Really? You were a virgin?" He sat up and rubbed his neck. Achilles looked down a little.

"No, I've been with my fiancee. Or ex-fiancee, I should say. But that was only twice, and I never really liked it. Not like this, this was much more fun." He pulled his hair back into a low ponytail, smiling. 

"Well, I'm glad I was fun, cause I think I might like to do that again sometime." He kissed Achilles' cheek, still a little nervous that Achilles might change his mind. But instead, he turned his head into the kiss, lingering a moment.

"I'm getting off with you. When the ship docks, I'm getting off with you and your sister, my family be damned." He grinned giddily like a kid let loose in a candy store.

By the time they had dressed and climbed out, both were properly famished.

"Where to now?" Patroclus looked around, trying to think of where else they could go. Achilles swallowed and looked at the exit.

"There are a few things I need to get from my room. I should be able to sneak up there and get them."

"You really think you can get past Hector?" Patroclus couldn't help but worry. He would be going up to where all three people who were trying to chain him would be sleeping at best and waiting for him at worst.

"He's probably still looking somewhere else. But even if he is there, I can't be afraid of them like this. I want to get a better jacket and my fathers watch, and I'm not going to spend the rest of my life regretting leaving them because I was too afraid to be yelled at by my mother." He gave Patroclus a determined smile. "I can do it now. You go find us something to eat and I'll meet you at your room, we can plan from there."

They embraced tightly then separated at the top of the stairs. Patroclus passed a clock and found it was only a little past eleven at night. He hoped that would be late enough to keep Achilles safe, to let Achilles come back to him.


	5. Chapter 5

Creeping into their state rooms, Achilles sighed in relief that it was dark and empty. Tip toeing to his room, over the ugly carpet he would not miss and past the clothes he had discarded the night before, he looked quickly through his belongings in his dresser, trying to breathe as quietly as possible and make as little noise, really wanting to avoid waking anyone he didn't want to talk to again. He rifled through his drawer, grabbing everything he needed and pocketing it as quickly as he could, his hands trembling. This was the last thing he needed to do before he could finally move past this. He was about to leave his room when he noticed that stupid broach still pinned to his discarded dinner jacket. On an angry whim, he ripped it off and stuffed it into his pocket. Maybe he'd sell it, maybe he'd keep it with him to hold onto as a memento. He just wished he could see the looks on their faces when they realized both he and it were gone for good.

He would have made it out, he's sure he would have. He had been quieter than he'd ever been in his life, not a single board creaked under his weight, no fabric rubbed together to make any kind of noise. He was almost to the door, no one had noticed he had even been there. But then came a terrible noise that seemed to come from the walls of the ship, and a shudder that threw him forwards onto the floor, the metallic shrieking continuing. He tried to scramble up and run out the door but the ship was still shaking and he couldn't stay on his feet, lamps and vases falling from tables, books falling from their shelves. His mother and fiancee cried out in their rooms as they were woken, and he could hear them scrambling to get up and steady themselves. In vain he crawled towards the door but could not make it before they both ran into the room in their nightclothes, clinging to whatever sturdy things they could hold onto. Achilles groaned, his head falling. Now how was he going to get away again? They'd both be nervous wrecks and insist on sticking together.

"Achilles! Oh sweetheart we were so worried! Are you hurt?" Deidameia helped him up as the shaking finally stopped, his mother fixing her hair and tying her dressing gown, always needing to have her dignity, even in a crisis.

"What could that shudder have been?"

"And that terrible noise." Deidameia shuddered and clung to Achilles, who was kicking himself for coming back at all. But to be fair, he hadn't thought whatever had just happened would happen. What was it, anyway? And was Patroclus ok? He would need to find him soon to make sure, it might have been bad. Something could have fallen on him at the very least.

Running was heard outside their door, along with the sound of fearful yelling. Hector slipped in through the door then, face uncharacteristically pale. Achilles didn't think he'd ever seen fear on that broad face before, but this was unmistakable. He closed the door slowly, with very careful precision, as if trying to delay looking into the room. Finally when it was carefully set to place, he looked to them, their faces expectant.

"We've struck an iceberg."

"A what?" Deidameia's face was incredulous, and Achilles would admit he felt a bit the same. "We haven't hit an iceberg. They're huge, the look outs would have seen one a mile away." She crossed her arms, but Hector simply shook his head slowly.

"I was on deck when it happened, I saw it. I saw us hit it, I saw the ice fall onto the deck. We hit an iceberg." He said it with such fear and finality that Achilles felt his heart go cold with matched fear. They all stood in stunned silence, looking at one another.

"Well." Deidameia said finally. "They have pumps for that, and they said it was designed to be able to handle punctures, so it should all be fine. We should just go back to bed and forget the whole thing."

Achilles wanted to agree. Everyone go to bed, he waits long enough for them to sleep then he'll sneak out and find Patroclus and keep on with the plan. Before he could agree out loud, or anything else could happen for that matter, a harried crewman burst through the door, looking around their room until he saw a bureau with life jackets on top.

"You need to get your life belts on and go to the top deck as soon as possible." Before they could ask any questions he was back out, leaving the door open. When Achilles leaned a little to the left, Achilles could see out the door where a number of workers were banging hurriedly on doors and informing passengers.

"This is bad, isn't it." It didn't come out as a question but more of a statement of fact. 

There was another frozen moment where they all looked at each other blankly, not sure what to make of anything, and then they all seemed to snap into action. Achilles and Hector began gathering the coats and life jackets while his mother and fiancee found their shoes and whatever they wanted to take onto the deck, grumbling about this being an absurd waste of time on an unsinkable ship. Achilles was putting his coat on, life jacket in hand, wondering how the hell he was going to slip away unnoticed now. They'd be in a large crowd yes, but it would be so easy to notice he was gone and even easier to find him with only a small area to search. He would have to try and find Patroclus, make a plan, then find the others again so he could stay with them until he could get away again. This was just getting more and more complicated. 

\--

Patroclus made his way to Briseis in a matter of minutes, explaining everything excitedly. She smiled brightly and hugged him, saying she was so happy for him and would happily have Achilles as a new member of their little family. They found something to eat with one of Briseis' new friends and were heading to a common area when there was an earsplitting shriek that seemed to come from everywhere, knocking them to their knees. Patroclus covered his ears, hearing things falling and toppling over, people yelling. But the worst sound was a terrible roaring noise that came from below them, one he couldn't place at first because it sounded so out of place. He thought maybe one of the engines had exploded, but it would have sounded different than that, wouldn't it? It should sound more mechanical, shouldn't it? Then the terrifying realization came over him that it wasn't the sound of fire, but water.

Water.

He turned to Briseis' whose face had a look of horror that must have mirrored his own. She knew too. 

"We have to get out." They both struggled to their feet, looking around. After a frantic minute where his brain seemed to refuse to work, he spotted a sign for a stairway down the hall. "Here, let's go." They started running, adrenaline kicking in. They were nearly there when they heard shouting and banging from behind a residential door.

"Wait!" He stopped and put his ear to the door, calling, "What's wrong?"

From inside a frantic voice answered. "The door is stuck, we can't get out! Something got bent or something while the boat was shaking, it won't move!" He looked to Briseis, frantically looking between him, the door, and the stairs, trying to figure out what to do. 

"Look." He took a deep breath, pointing to the stairs. "You go up, find out what's happening, see if you can bring help. I'm going to see if I can find an ax in the mean time. If you come back and I'm not here, we meet on the deck." She nodded and they both embraced tightly, Briseis pulling back and looking at him a moment before running up the stairs. Patroclus watched her go then turned back to the door, calling inside.

"I'm going to try and break it down, I'm going to need you to get back, ok? I'm going to get a fire ax and I don't want you guys to get hit." He waited for confirmation that they were as far back as they could get in the cramped quarters and ran back down the way he came, trying to remember where he had seen the fire emergency supplies, his heart hammering. He was sure he could still hear the rushing of the water as it began filling the belly of the ship. He had heard the safety measures like everyone else had, he'd heard all the precautions they'd taken with the water tight bulk heads and pumps, studied the maps when he'd had nothing better to do, but that sounded like way too much water, the boat couldn't possibly be able to handle that much. They were too far from help, it was all too much.

Oh god, where was Achilles? Was he safe? How would they find each other if the boat was going down? 

No, he couldn't think about that right now, he had to get that door open. He finally found an ax at the end of the hall, panting. He had just broken the glass and was about to walk away when he caught a slight glint out of the corner of his eye. Turning back slowly, he looked up the hall. There was another stairwell at the end, going down. And coming down the hall towards him, like a small blue hand reaching outwards, was a thin trickle of water.

\--

Achilles followed the orderly line of first class passengers with his family, trying not to snap at anyone when they bumped into him. It wasn't their fault that any of this was happening, they didn't know he was trying to escape. In fact, they were probably trying to help him stick with his little unit. Odysseus was still drunk from dinner and crowing loudly that this was the most fun he'd had on the ship yet. Many others were grumbling about tossing him overboard. Hector was rubbing his hands together and following Deidameia, looking around agitatedly. It made Achilles nervous that he was so nervous. He had seen him stone faced with a knife drawn on him by a desperate man who owed his employer money. If he was afraid, things were bad. 

"Alright, alright!" A steward was standing on the grand staircase over them when they entered the hall, a large crowd already gathered already. The man began telling them to keep calm, explaining the situation in a slow voice. Yes they had hit an iceberg, no there was no need to panic. They would all be loaded onto lifeboats in an orderly fashion and everything would be just fine.

Achilles began tuning him out as he looked around, trying to find Patroclus. Something seemed strange about the crowd that he couldn't put a finger on. Other than the fact that they were all standing around in their pajamas and life vests, he couldn't really tell what it was that was bothering him. Then he spotted one man in an absurd top hat and it clicked. They were only first class passengers. He quickly looked out the large windows but there was no one but workers outside. The other passengers hadn't been called up. Shimmying away, he found one of the captain's men.

"Where are the other passengers?"

"We didn't want to make too much of a crowd, crowd's panic, and we don't want to cause a panic you see." The man said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Well, are we in any danger? Is the ship actually going to sink?" The man looked like he was going to say no, absolutely not, but then his eyes widened slightly and he leaned to the left to look around Achilles. Achilles turned to look and saw the front of the ship was dipping slightly.

"That's... That shouldn't be happening." Achilles heart sank as he looked at the listing ship. Something was wrong. He did not know what had happened to make everything go so wrong, but he had to find Patroclus and get him to the life boats, because they would surely be needing them tonight.

Pushing his way through the crowd, he meant to try and find his family again for the time being when he heard someone yelling and followed it and the disagreeable huffing of the passengers until he found Briseis, looking distressed and frantic. She lit onto him, grabbing his arm and pulling.

"I need your help, Patroclus is trying to get a door open for some people who are trapped, we need to help him." Before waiting for an answer she had grabbed his hand and was dragging him through the crowd towards an awaiting door. He looked over his shoulder to make sure they were not followed, anxiety a terrible ball in his stomach growing ever greater. His mother and fiancee were complaining to a new friend, but his eyes struck on Hector who was staring intently at him, but staying in place. He took that to mean he was letting him leave and ran along with Briseis as quickly as he could.

\--

Patroclus tried to forget the encroaching water and focus on opening the door. He had called to the occupants to make sure they were back and began chopping at the door aggressively. It took no small effort and more time than he would have liked, but he was able to chop away enough of the door that the young man and woman inside were able to climb through with his help. The woman, probably just a year younger than him, yelped in surprise when her feet touched the ground, making Patroclus look down. He was ankle deep in freezing water, his feet too numb to feel it. They both thanked him profusely then ran for the stairs. Patroclus wiped his forehead, his hands clammy from the exertion and cold warring on his body.  Briseis was not back yet and that was worrying him. He began looking around himself, worrying that he really had no idea where he was. Briseis' friend lived down in this area and he'd never been here before. What if the stairway had let her out somewhere she didn't know and couldn't find her way back? How were they supposed to find each other again?

He began going up the stairs, keeping the ax clutched in his hand nervously. He didn't know if he would need it again or if he was simply being paranoid, but it made him feel better to have it just in case. He probably shouldn't be running with it, part of his brain says, especially when he can hardly feel his feet, but he can't stand to stop a moment and think rationally. The ship is flooding and the two people he cares about are nowhere to be found. He is scared, and he just wants to find them. Everything after that is just details.

He was up to flights of stairs when a door flew open and Briseis was standing in front of him, her hair coming loose around her frantic face but she beamed when she saw him, throwing her arms around his neck.

"They're out? They're ok?" 

He hugged her tighter and nodded. "They're fine, I got them out." She nodded against his neck then pulled back.

"I couldn't get any of the crewman to help me, they're all getting the life boats ready." She swallowed thickly. "Patroclus, I think this ship is going to sink." 

He nodded mechanically at the words, having not wanted to think that such a thing could happen. But obviously the water had reached above the bulkheads.

"We won't have much time then. The water down there is rising, which means it's high enough below to get over the bulkheads and fill each of the chambers. Even with the pumps, a ship can't float with all that water in it. We need to get up to the lifeboats."

"But..." Her eyes filled with tears. "They put women and children on first. How will you get on?"

He rubbed her shoulder, trying to reassure her. "They'll run out of women and children, then they'll let us on. You've seen how many life boats there are up there, and they can fit over 50 people in each." He squeezed her shoulder gently, looking into those deep, dark eyes, so like his own. "We're going to be fine, Briseis. Both of us, I promise."

She smiled a little and swiped at her eyes. "Not just both." She turned towards the door, and Patroclus' heart soared when he saw Achilles. They both lurched forward and embraced tightly.

"You're ok, you're ok..." He pressed his face into the soft golden hair, easing some of the tension in his chest. They were all together, things were going to be alright now.

They pulled apart and smiled at each other, threading their fingers together. They moved to go up the stairs and get to the deck when a door a flight above them sprung open, Deidameia's enraged face over their heads. She shrieked in fury as she saw Achilles with Patroclus and pointed down at them. Patroclus thought it might be to yell at them, then saw Hector appear behind her, a shining black pistol in his hand. He cocked it to fire and they all ran back down the stairway, Patroclus casting about before leading them further down the hall, away from the stairway spewing water. The only problem, well not the only but the biggest, was that by now the water was up to his mid thigh and it was increasingly hard to run through it. He wanted to believe that meant it would slow Hector as well, but he knew he didn't need to be all that close for his pistol to work.

Just then he finally fired, hitting the water with a splash. Patroclus dragged Achilles and Briseis in front of him and began pushing them, knowing that it was harder for their shorter legs. Another shot rang out, hitting nothing, then another. Then yet another, this one biting through the meat of his thigh. He wanted to cry out but bit his lip and kept pushing forward. He couldn't let them know, they would want to stop and look at it when they got the chance and he had to get them to the lifeboats. 

Finally they reached yet another stairwell, and god he was sick of these things, and they were able to run up, Patroclus flinging a door at random open and turning to Briseis.

"You keep going up, get to the lifeboats, get safe, we'll find you again."

"No, I can-" But he had to cut her off, there was no time. He had to at least save her, he had to.

"They're not going to be boarding men for a while, and we can't bring a madman onto a crowded deck. He'll follow us, just please go."

Her eyes searched his face for truth, that they would find each other again after. She must have found enough because she silently nodded and kept going up the stairs. Patroclus watched her, waiting for her to be far enough away before going through the door with Achilles, closing it behind them and using the ax to make a makeshift door jam before rushing down another unfamiliar hallway before he had to stop, his leg buckling underneath him. Achilles turned to him as he slid down the wall a little, holding his leg and wincing. His pants were dark but you could still the blood staining it as it slowly spread. Achilles was by his side immediately, pushing on the wound.

"What happened? Is it bad?" Those beautiful green eyes were wide and fearful as he tried to inspect the injury, hands trembling, both worrying that Hector could come barreling around the corner at any moment. Patroclus held Achilles' wrist as he tried to fuss with the wound more, ripping at his pants to get a better look.

"There's no time, we've got to get out of here." He had gotten Briseis out, he needed to save Achilles. They were on a sinking ship with a mad man brandishing a gun after them but dammit he was going to get Achilles somewhere safe.

Achilles looked at him a minute then nodded, ripping part of his jacket and tying it tightly to Patroclus' thigh, just above the wound. He grunted and winced, digging his nails into his palms but trying to keep quiet, not wanting Achilles to know how bad it was. Truthfully,  _he_ didn't know how bad it was, just hoped not bad enough that he couldn't keep running.

Looking down, he saw water starting to seep towards his hand from the stairs, they had to keep moving and get up to the top deck. Achilles patted his knee.

"You stay here a minute, I'll go find where we should go next." He ran down the hall, Patroclus shifting a bit to get further away from the seeping water. Achilles made a noise of displeasure and ran back. "I don't think there are any stairwells going up farther over here. We have to go back through the ones we came." They both looked back at the doorway that was spilling water underneath itself. In the few minutes they'd been here, the water had risen the height of almost a full floor. They were running out of time.

Achilles wrapped an arm around Patroclus, helping him up and back towards the door, discarding the ax and taking each stair one at a time. The water continued to rise around their feet, always just behind them. Patroclus knew it was his fault, that Achilles could have been much further along by now without him slowing everything down. But Achilles wouldn't leave him behind, not even if Patroclus begged him to for his own sake.

Finally they reached the upper deck, and found only chaos.

\--

When Achilles had left, the upper deck was maybe a hundred upperclass passengers milling about and complaining quietly to themselves. Now, it was a mix of every class and crew worker running for themselves. The large french doors were shattered, the banister was splintered, and everyone was rushing and screaming to get to the lifeboats. To their right was a fistfight over a discarded lifejacket. Patroclus grabbed it when they weren't looking, having none of his own.

He didn't know where to go, if they could even get to a lifeboat, if any were letting men on. He looked to Patroclus, who seemed pale and a little nauseous and was heavily favoring one side, his hand painfully gripping his injured thigh. Achilles felt frozen on the inside. How were they going to get out of this?

He grabbed Patroclus' hand and hurried through the crowd towards the outside, trying to find a boat they could get on, but stilled in the doorway. Half the boats were gone already and they hadn't made a dent in the amount of passengers still on board. He peered over the side and caught site of a few boats with only about 20 people inside. Were they not even filling the boats? Did they not know how many people were on board? At this rate not all the women and children would get on, much less him and Patroclus. His hope was very quickly dwindling. How was he going to save him?

They squeezed closer to the edge as a large group came running by, and Achilles recognized his mother and Deidameia in a lifeboat beneath them, sitting primly as if they were above all of this, as if it was merely an inconvenience and not what was surely going to kill many people, possibly including her fiancee and right hand man. 

Her head snapped up then, as if she felt his disdain for her, eyes lighting on him for what he hoped would be the last time. Her eyes narrowed.

"Hector! What are you waiting for?! Shoot him!" Achilles flinched slightly. He hadn't thought Hectors orders were to kill him too. She must be too tired to think dealing with him for the rest of her life is worth it. He turned slowly and saw Hector standing over his shoulder, chest heaving, soaked up to his chest in freezing water. He wasn't looking at Achilles though, his eyes were on Deidameia. He took his gun from its holster, looked at it then her again, then tossed it into the water, spitting after it.

"You cannot bribe a corpse." He didn't know if Deidameia heard it, if she was even meant to hear it, but she seemed to get the sentiment. But with her enforcer now gone, her shrieks of anger held no more power, and for the first time, Achilles saw her as the young, pampered girl she truly was. No longer a threat or something to fear, just another person. A lonely, lonely person floating on a cold ocean with no one who loved her for a thousand thousand miles. In this moment, she was no more than the rest of them.

His mother did not look up from where she was sitting. Her head was bowed and her hands clasped in front of her. Perhaps she was so lost within herself that she hadn't noticed what had happened, that Deidameia had even made a sound at all. He couldn't see her face. He looked, trying to see her, but the boat slowly drifted away without him seeing anything but her long hair and pale white hands.

He wanted to take Patroclus' hand and see if they could go and find Briseis, maybe talk their way onto a boat, when the ship jerked out from under them, knocking them to the side. Achilles clutched the railing and Patroclus clutched onto him, Hector sliding with nothing to hold onto and falling, sliding along the wet floor out of sight. Achilles looked to the other end of the boat and saw it lifting up out of the water. He could hear screams from inside along with the rushing of water and shattering glass. The ship began sinking faster. He looked to Patroclus in fear.

"What do we do? We could try and get to the other side?"

Patroclus shook his head, swallowing hard. "We need to find something to get onto, something that floats, and move as far from the ship as we can. We don't want to be near it when it breaks or sinks."

Achilles nodded and looked around, pointing to what seemed to be part of a smashed lifeboat. At least half of it was left, the right half it looked like, they could both lie on it, at least mostly on it. Patroclus followed his look and nodded.

"We're going to have to jump."

Achilles nodded, bouncing on his knees slightly. "Ok." He slowly stepped up onto the rail, taking a moment to balance himself before looking to Patroclus, who stepped up with him stiffly. They carefully took each others hands, taking deep breaths. The irony was not lost on Achilles, and he hoped he would live long enough to enjoy it one day. They didn't look at each other, didn't want to scare themselves. Patroclus softly counted to three under his breath, then they jumped.

It felt like he was in the air for an eternity. He wondered, as he saw himself moving out over the water, if this is what it would have felt like if he'd jumped that first night. No, he decided, this isn't what it would have been like. This time he had a hand around his own, and the smallest glimmer of hope in his chest. His feet entered first, and the shock was terrible, and then he felt himself be swallowed whole. He closed his eyes right before his head went under, taking in a last gasping breath.

He lost contact with Patroclus in the water and found himself floating alone. He opened his eyes and found himself surrounded by what he could only describe as the purest form of blue. It wasn't like when he was young, and his mother had taken him to swim off the beaches of her home. Then the water was tan and clear, and warmed by the sun. The water stung his eyes with salt and he could see the faded forms of small black fish swirling curiously around his head, unafraid of the intruder, while soft sand brushed his toes.

No, this was nothing like that. He couldn't feel the salt in this water, just the pure cold. He had once asked why all the water didn't freeze, only some of it. His father had said there was just too much of it, that even though it was more than cold enough to freeze, there was too much to do the job. He hadn't believed there could be water colder than ice before, but now he did. Now, he was surrounded by nothing but blue and cold. He couldn't tell which way was up, he couldn't make his arms and legs pump to the surface properly.

Just as he thought he might sink to the very bottom of the sea and be lost forever, a fumbling hand found his own again, a dark mass to his left. Together, they clawed their way to the surface with the help of their life vests. He let out a watery gasp as they broke the surface, his eyes burning as they made contact with the air. He couldn't hardly see, but was able to find the white blob that was the boat. It seemed to take all the strength he had left in his body to paddle over to it, but they found their way to it all the same. Achilles lifted himself up, laying lengthwise, trying to get out of the water as much as possible, the boat barely wide enough for the width of his body. He reached for Patroclus and tried to drag him up, but he would only go halfway.

"Not now, not yet. The water is numbing m-my leg. M-m-makes the blood vessels constrict, so it won't bleed as m-much. It's a g-good thing." He nodded to Achilles and simply held onto his hand, both of them trembling. He made sure he at least had most of his torso on the boat. "It's going to b-be okay Achilles, I promise." He made sure Achilles was looking at him, squeezing his hand. "I promise, you are going to be ok. You're going to go everywhere you want to go, you're going to see the whole w-world, Achilles."

"And you will too." He squeezed his hand back. "We're going to see it all together, yeah? You promise that too?" But Patroclus just smiled sadly at that and laid his cheek against the wood tiredly, and Achilles decided to do the same. It would be alright, it would. He'd see.

Achilles could see the ship sinking fully now. Part of their little half boat was domed over them, protecting them a little from the wind. The open side was facing the ship, though he wished it wasn't. He didn't have the strength to turn his head away, and even if he did, he didn't want to turn away from Patroclus. His near frozen eyes stayed fixed on the ship, watched as it lifted higher and higher into the air before there was a terrible crack and it split in half, crashing back down. One half sunk and the other rose again before rapidly sinking into the water to follow its twin.

The screams never stopped. Even after the boat had sunk, they continued, people screaming for the boats to come back for them, to please for the love of god save them. But they didn't come and they didn't come. Achilles would have screamed with them, screamed and screamed and never stopped, but he couldn't make his throat work properly. Every time he breathed, he could hear the ice on his clothes cracking and reforming. He could hear the same labored breathing from Patroclus just inches away, both their hands holding onto one another. One hand held the others hand, the other was gripping the clothing of the other, refusing to loosen. Achilles tried tugging at him weakly to get the rest of the way out of the water but he would just shake his head weakly. In another life, Achilles could have hauled him up himself, but he felt he was as weak as a wilted flower now, left to the mercy of the cruel, cold world before him.

It felt like that dream he'd had, only in a twisted nightmare world. He was floating through the ocean on a small boat, but there was no peace here. Only cold and fear and death on every side of him. He did, however, start to feel something deep within him try to drag him towards a deep sleep.

He thought he was dreaming when he heard the whistle, high and shrill over the wind. 

"Is anybody alive out there? Can you hear me?" A light appeared in his field of vision, on top of a white blob of a boat coming towards them, that beautiful voice calling out to them with the promise of life.

His heart, what was left of it, soared in his frozen chest. They were saved.

"Pa-patroclu-u-us, there's a boat." He shook his frozen shirt. "Wake up, there's a boat, we have to go." He kept shaking but Patroclus wouldn't move. Had he succumbed to the sleep? No, he wouldn't have, he wouldn't have just let himself die out here. Achilles refused to believe it. A dry sob choked out and he kept shaking. "Please, you have to w-wake up, there's a b-boat..." He looked up again, and the boat was moving away. Oh god, he couldn't let it, he had to stop it. He tried crying out but his voice couldn't get above a hoarse, cracked whisper.

He quickly searched Patroclus' pockets, hoping to find one of the rocks they'd used for skipping. He would apologize later, when Patroclus woke up. He would find him a hundred new rocks. But there was nothing. Patroclus stayed frozen slumped onto the boat, and his pockets were bare. He was about to give up, deflate and accept their fate, but he remembered that broach, that stupid fucking broach. He found it still in his jacket pocket, wrapping his numb fingers around it. With all that he had left within himself, he jerked his frozen arm back painfully, sighted the blob that he hoped was the crewman, and threw it as hard as he could. 

For a moment, there was no response, only a very small splash, and he was sure it had not worked, but then-

"Turn about!" The mans light swept over them once, twice, then stayed on them, on Achilles propped on his elbow and trembling, still clutching onto Patroclus and shaking him.

"They're coming... They're coming..." There was still no answer.

\--

Achilles sat on the beach, eyes closed, soaking in the warmth. His feet were bare and his toes were buried in the hot sand. He hated the cold, relished the near burning sensation of the sun and sand against his skin. Sometimes it felt like he was still cold inside, still frozen just below the skin. It was only when he was like this, surrounded by nothing but warmth, that he felt whole again.

The radio in the diner that morning had said it was, as of roughly 2:30 in the morning, the ten year anniversary of the sinking of the Titanic. He couldn't believe that it had truly been ten years since that night. He still dreamt of their makeshift raft, wading through the belly of the ship as it filled with water, being submerged, of feeling himself freeze while he was still alive. He would wake up in a cold sweat, twisted in his sheets, gasping for breath and checking himself for ice.

He opened his eyes then, looking out over the ocean. It was the warm ocean Patroclus had told him about, now ten years and two days ago. None of it seemed real when he was like this, that he really could have gone through something as absurd as that night. Since that night, his eyesight was poor and he needed glasses to see anything properly, something about damage from the water and ice. His hands would often tremble from an invisible source that he could not control, and he would have to stop whatever he was doing and wait for them to still. He still played instruments when he could, but sometimes his fingers would go weak and he couldn't make the notes come out right.

He only went places that were warm, never straying anywhere cold anymore. It would never be as cold as that night, but he did not want to remember if he did not have to. Not the cold, not the screams, not Patroclus, deadly still beneath his hands, too far gone to be able to hear him...

He heard a soft thump from behind him, and a pair of legs appeared on either side of him, followed by two arms around his middle. 

"Briseis is getting the food, it'll be done in a minute." He shifted a little, adjusting his bum leg. The doctors on the ship had done what they could with what little they had, and they'd been able to save his leg, but it was still hard for him to walk on, the muscles knotted and ragged. He felt bad about it, said he and his cane were slowing them down anywhere they went. Achilles always reminded him that they didn't need to run anymore, they could go as slow as they needed to now. 

When they had gotten onto the ship that saved them, Achilles had been sure he was dead, that he'd lost him, had been sobbing and refusing to let go of him, but the doctor on board said he still had a pulse, that he had been right about the cold slowing his bleeding. It was touch and go for a while when they didn't know if the hypothermia would kill him before the blood loss did, but by some miracle he'd woken up after a day of lying unconscious in the belly of another ship. Briseis had been on deck frantically looking for them during that time, and Achilles was able to find her a few hours before they reached America. There were hugs and tears, and even more when she saw that Patroclus was going to be alright. When they docked, he gave his last name as the same as theirs to the man checking who was living and who was deceased. According to the rest of the world, Achilles Pelides was officially dead. He had perished in the wreck of the RMS Titanic along with countless others.

Now, they lived nomadically like they had planned. They had been to Spain and the south of Italy, and all along the American south and west. Achilles liked this place best, warm and quiet. He hoped they could stay here a while before their next impromptu trip.

He had seen a headline not long after they had been on land again, about Deidameia. It was an interview about their supposed grand doomed love story. Apparently as the boat was sinking they'd had the captain marry them, only for them to be separated when they weren't letting men on the boats. She had supposedly searched tirelessly for him but was never able to look upon his face one last time. She spoke about how she'd lost the love her life that night, that she would never love again, that her only consolation was knowing he had died with her as his wife. Achilles had to admit, she was smart.

He heard a few months later that she'd married someone else right afterwards, equally rich, who took over his fathers company. They had a blonde haired, green eyed child that was supposedly born a month early in incredible health for a premature child. He hadn't heard anything else of her since then. His mother did not have any statement to make. Odysseus went on to write a book about the night and made yet another fortune. He never heard what happened to Hector.

Closing his eyes, he let himself be enveloped by Patroclus' arms. No, he did not want to think of that night anymore. Not now, not for a long time. Somewhere behind them, Briseis called that she had the food and hoped they were hungry. Yes, he'd like to stay right here for a long while.


End file.
